The More I Love My Dog
by Tropical Medlies
Summary: A series of vignettes about Fiona, Imogen, and Imogen's dog, Volta. One-shot.


1. The first time that Fiona met Volta, she went into things confidently, sure that she could handle a little dog. After all, Imogen talked incessantly about how sweet and adorable and cuddly her dog was, so when she was invited over to the Moreno house for dinner one Friday night and Imogen warned her that she would be faced with her dog, Fiona just brushed off her warnings. As she made herself presentable for Imogen and her father, she realized that, in all of her times talking about it, Imogen had never mentioned what kind of dog Volta was. It probably wasn't important, but still, with the emphasis her girlfriend had put on the animal since they had met, she probably could have clarified.

When she rang the doorbell promptly at six, she barely had to wait three seconds before there was a howling and her blood ran cold. What the hell kind of an animal made_ that_ noise? Not the furry little Maltese or Chihuahua that she had been expecting. Not even a friendly Golden Retriever. Was Imogen housing Cerberus in there, or something?

She could hear Imogen's muffled voice through the door telling Volta - so it was definitely Volta - to calm down, and then the door was being unlocked and thrown open. Her eyes slid immediately from a beaming Imogen to the dog attached to the collar she had her fingers hooked through. She was pretty sure it was the ugliest dog she had ever seen.

"Imogen, what is that?" she heard herself asking before common sense caught up with her, and she gingerly stepped over the threshold of the house.

Imogen looked confused, her gaze switching between Fiona and her bloodhound. "This is Volta. You know Volta, Fions, I talk about her all the time. Volta, go meet Fiona!" Before Fiona could say a word, Imogen had released her hold on the dog and it bounded forward, surging up onto its hind legs and planting two paws right on Fiona's chest. Volta's sudden weight threw Fiona completely off-balance and, try as she might, she couldn't save herself from throwing her purse somewhere to her left and crashing to the floor, splaying out flat on her back.

Volta happily took a seat on Fiona's chest and licked her face, and although Imogen was trying her hardest to make sure that Fiona was okay and not unconscious or bleeding, she couldn't help but laugh at the dirty look on her girlfriend's face.

Needless to say, Fiona and Volta weren't best friends at first.

—

2. "Fions, I don't know what to do," Imogen said miserably, her head propped on her crossed arms. The two of them were sitting side-by-side in the cafeteria, with Fiona rubbing Imogen's back as she tried to soothe her. She'd been having a rough time with her father lately, since he was becoming increasingly absentminded and they were fighting - she had the sneaking suspicion it was about herself, unfortunately - but Imogen wouldn't tell her anything beyond that.

"I know, Immy, I know," Fiona said, resting her arms on top of one another and putting her cheek on them, mirroring Imogen so she could see her eyes. "Look, how about you sleep over this weekend? The whole weekend. I mean, just come over tonight and stay until Sunday night."

Imogen bit her lip before sitting up a little to take off her glasses and rub her eyes, not minding her eye makeup at all. "I don't know. I can't leave Volta alone with my dad for that long." Fiona sat up slowly as well, gazing at Imogen as she made a few quick decisions in her head. She was going to regret this, she could tell already, but it was going to make her girlfriend happy for a little while, so she would do it.

"Why don't you bring Volta over for the weekend? I mean, it's only two days. What's the harm?" Imogen stopped rubbing her eyes and stared incredulously at Fiona. Fiona rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I just said that. Bring Volta over."

"Oh, you are the _best_!" she cried, throwing her arms around Fiona's neck and kissing her cheek.

She was so going to regret it.

—

She knew she was right when Imogen skipped into her loft later that night with her overnight bag and then a whole other bag for just Volta. Drew and Bianca looked up from the movie they were watching on the couch when they heard Imogen enter, and Fiona held a hand up before either of them could say a thing. "Imogen is staying for the weekend, and so is her dog, okay?"

The two of them mumbled an affirmation and then went back to their movie while Imogen and Fiona went into Fiona's room and unpacked what Imogen brought for the weekend. Volta, who was off the leash now, immediately set about sniffing everything in the room while the owner of said room eyed her warily. "Imogen, I swear, if she pees on anything - "

"Fions, calm down. I made sure she went before we got here, and I'll take her out again before we go to sleep. She'll be fine, okay? Stop stressing out. Maybe you'll like having a dog. Oh! What if we get married someday and we end up getting a dog? Think of it as practice." With that she kissed Fiona and then opened the bedroom door, skipping out into the kitchen with Volta on her heels.

Fiona sighed heavily, and then followed her out there, wondering why Imogen was so...Imogen-like sometimes. The next few hours managed to pass by fairly easily, and after Bianca had gone home for the night and Drew crashed in his room, Fiona and Imogen retreated into Fiona's own bedroom.

They changed quietly, not even being shy about sneaking peeks at one another, and did their nightly routines of brushing their teeth, washing their faces, setting out their clothes for the next day, and whatever else they needed. When Fiona came out of the bathroom after washing off her facial mask, she found Imogen already curled up on one side of the bed and Volta at the foot of it, and she narrowed her eyes. "Okay, nope, this is not happening," she declared, pointing at the dog.

Imogen rolled over to face her, squinting. "Oh, come on, Fions. Just let her stay with us. I promise, she'll be good and she'll stay down there." There were a few minutes where they engaged in a stare-off that Fiona had lost from the very first second, and then she huffed, climbing into the bed and flicking off the lights.

There was a shifting in the bed, and a warm arm wrapped itself around her waist. "You're pretty awesome, Fiona Coyne," Imogen murmured, already half-asleep. Fiona rolled her eyes but covered Imogen's hand with her own. Her girlfriend was damn lucky she was cute.

What wasn't so cute, however, was when she woke up in the morning and found herself spooning Volta instead, with Imogen in the middle of taking a picture.

—

3. When Fiona thought about a list of things she would find herself doing with her girlfriend on a beautiful spring afternoon when they didn't have school or any pressing responsibilities, being in a dog park with Volta did not come anywhere close to being on it. Yet there she was, sitting on a bench surrounded by people and their pets, and trying her hardest not to touch anything. Imogen and Volta were playing Frisbee - or, rather, Imogen was throwing the Frisbee while Volta sniffed at anything but the disc, leaving Imogen to run after it.

Sometimes Fiona swore Volta had her owner better trained than the other way around. The dog was sort of doing the same Fiona, too, now that she thought about it, since lately she would actually stop and kneel to the ground and give her a tummy rub whenever she went to Imogen's house.

It seemed like Imogen had given up on playing fetch for now, since she was heading back to the bench. "Hey, Fi?" she said when she was close enough, frowning a little as she patted down her pockets.

"Yeah, hon?" Fiona replied absentmindedly, scratching behind Volta's ears as the bloodhound's head was laid in her lap.

"I think I left my phone in the car. Watch Volta while I go grab it?"

"No problem." Imogen grinned at her, pecked her cheek, and then jogged away to the parking lot across the street, leaving 'her two girls' behind, as she often called them. "Just you and me now, Volta," Fiona murmured, meeting the dog's bloodshot gaze. "Come on, want to try this whole Frisbee thing again? Yeah?" She picked the disc up from where Imogen had left it beside her on the bench and stood up. Volta trotted a few feet away, waiting obediently until Fiona threw it, her aim a little unsteady.

The dog's attention shifted away from the game at hand almost immediately when a squirrel bounded near them, an acorn in its paws. Fiona saw it a second too late, and not even a shout in Volta's direction could deter her. Volta took off like a shot, and soon she was halfway across the dog park in pursuit of the squirrel, Fiona trying to chase after her in her heels - which, okay, not the best choice that day.

When Imogen came back a few minutes later and stopped by the bench where she left Fiona and Volta, she stopped, confused, and scanned the open expanse of grass until she spotted them. They were on the complete opposite end of the park, with Fiona trying to tug Volta away from a tree unsuccessfully, grass stains on the knees of her jeans and the front of her shirt from where she had obviously fallen, and her heels in her hand instead of on her feet.

She held up a hand to Imogen when she met them halfway back with Volta's leash. "Don't say a word, Imogen," she said through gritted teeth, and Imogen knew better than to challenge her.

—

4. "Honestly, Imogen, how do you even rope me into these things?" Fiona tried to simultaneously tug down her shorts and hold onto the hose that she was supposed to be aiming at Volta. They were attempting to give the six year old bloodhound a bath, but apparently she had never liked them and always fought them tooth and nail, which meant it was a two person job every single time. It was hard enough that she was over a hundred pounds and thrashing around, but add to that the fact that Imogen was wearing the world's tiniest shorts and a soaking wet white shirt (why a white shirt, Fiona would never know) and she was having a hard time helping.

"Because you love me and this needed to get done because, let's face it, Volta was getting pretty gross." She couldn't argue on that point. Imogen was straddling the dog at this point and trying to scrub shampoo into her coat while keeping her from running away, and Fiona was doing her best to just keep the spray of water steady and pointed away from Imogen's face, but she couldn't really resist splashing her once in a while. "Fiona! Point that at Volta, not at me! I swear, you're almost as bad as she is!"

Fiona stuck her tongue out at her, putting a hand on her hip. "Well, maybe if you wouldn't insist on wearing such little shorts and a white shirt to do this I could focus on my job!" Volta appeared to have given up and was just laying on the ground and staring up at Fiona as though she had done this to her. "Sorry, girl, but this isn't my fault," she informed her, crouching down to rub her head.

Imogen stepped away from Volta, satisfied with their handiwork. "I think that should do it. Good work, team us!" she cheered, holding a hand up for Fiona to high-five, but Fiona was too busy staring past her. "What?"

"Uh, Imogen?" Fiona winced, then pointed. "Volta just, um, rolled around in a mud puddle..."

Fiona was actually amazed at some of the new swear words she heard come out of Imogen's mouth.

—

_(bonus)_

5. The first thing that they did when they bought their apartment together after they graduated from university - they were proud to say that they were the only couple that stayed together after Degrassi, all the way through the next four years, and into the real world - was buy all of the necessary things for Volta to live there. She was getting up there in age for a bloodhound, and Imogen was growing increasingly more concerned about her health. The two of them had been together for the past ten years, ever since Imogen had adopted her as a puppy in seventh grade, and for her to think of life without Volta was unimaginable.

They set up her dog bed in the corner of their small bedroom, although Fiona doubted she would ever have to use it, and Imogen carefully piled up her toys in a wicker basket in the living room. They drove back home to collect Volta one day, and it almost broke Fiona's heart to see how excited the older dog was to see the two of them. Even though she moved more slowly and her muzzle was graying, there was no doubt that she was dying inside to get as close to them as possible.

"Hey there, pretty girl," Fiona cooed, rubbing her tummy just like she had all of those times in high school, and on the odd occasion she had visited during college, and Volta just gazed up at her through bloodshot eyes. Imogen sat back on her butt and watched them, giving Fiona a warm, adoring smile when she caught her eye.

Volta immediately set out on a mission to sniff every last thing in the house when she got back to their apartment, and they just spent an hour or two watching her. Fiona could tell that Imogen was thinking about a time when she would have to deal with not having Volta around, but it wasn't time for that. Not yet. "Hey, let's do dinner, alright? Spaghetti sound good to you?" Imogen nodded, eyes lighting up, and they tried yet again to make dinner, a feat they had yet to successfully complete.

Later that night, they laid snuggled up in bed, with Imogen holding Fiona from behind, but something didn't seem quite right to Fiona. Finally she rolled over, facing Imogen, not surprised to find her awake. "I can't sleep," Imogen whispered, and Fiona nodded.

"I know. Wait, hang on." She flipped up the covers and crept out of the bed, going to the corner of the room and crouching down next to Volta's dog bed. She roused the bloodhound and pointed towards the bed, smiling when the dog immediately jumped onto it and curled up at the foot of the bed. She crawled back in herself, mentally counting down the seconds until Imogen pressed herself against her back once more. She managed to time it precisely.

"I love you, you secret dog lover," she whispered against Fiona's neck, and Fiona rolled her eyes.

"Who said I loved dogs?"

"Volta says. Don't worry, she loves you back."


End file.
